


Choke You With My Charms

by synteis



Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Warming, Dom POV, Erectile Dysfunction, Flogging, Happy Ending, Humiliation kink, Impact Play, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masochist Steve Rogers, Masturbation Interruptus, Mentions of Cancer, No really this is a love story, Pinching, Sadism, Sadist POV, Sadist Tony Stark, Semi-public masturbation, Sexual Repression, vampire gloves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22728118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synteis/pseuds/synteis
Summary: Steve can't seem to help himself from jerking off at Tony's big do.Tony can't seem to get it up after the last round of chemo.But when Tony offers to take Steve in hand and give Steve's cock some old-fashioned punishment, neither of them are quite expecting what happens next.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 34
Kudos: 199





	Choke You With My Charms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isozyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isozyme/gifts), [passeridae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/passeridae/gifts).



> This is dedicated to isozyme and passeridae.
> 
> To iso for luring me into my making this fic first by encouraging my ranting about 'not enough sadist POV fic', convincing me that I could help address that problem and finally helping me come up with the initial ideas for the fic.
> 
> To dae for participating in the very first version of fic back when it was in our DMs. This is only as long as it is because that initial rough outline was so long.
> 
> Thank you to Hopelesse for not only betaing this fic but betaing it in roughly 24hr. Clearly we're both nuts because this was written in about 48hrs. You did an amazing job, made me laugh a ton and definitely made this fic so much better. You also get credit for it being my longest one-shot yet.
> 
> The title's from the song "Choke" by BONES UK. Total credit to Hopelesse for the title and for introducing me to the band.

It’s a good birthday party, if Tony can say that about his own shindig. What is he saying — of course he can. The Ultimates dot the masses of people, split evenly between the dance floor and the more low–key sections with canapés and cocktails. 

Thor’s got a positive entourage going whereas Jan’s clearly chatting with some potential clients. 

In other words, a success. 

Tony’s done his best to banish words like ‘final’ and ‘last’ from his guests’ minds and it seems to have worked. The ratio of pity-to-regard in the eyes of people he shakes hands with, maybe stop and chat, is lower than it’s been in a couple of months. The hours in skin treatments for the past couple of weeks as well as tonight’s makeup application has done the trick. 

If the words do linger in his own mind he does his best to drown it out with the music on the dance floor, surveying from a balcony above it. 

He could really use another drink. Or maybe just some time down in the shop. He ought to pick someone up; he can leave as long as someone’s on his arm and if he picks right they’ll fall asleep after he gets them off with his mouth. He’s hungry for more than that, of course, but between Greg and the Ultimates he hasn’t had time to go down to his club. 

Still, he wants to wait a little while longer. Steve promised he’d come and Tony hasn’t seen a glimpse of his star–spangled ass. 

He’ll just step out for a second, take a look at some schematics, maybe set some time aside to visit his club. Then he’ll come back and do his last round. If Steve hasn’t shown up by then– well Tony should have learnt a long time ago not to rely on people, not even Captain America. 

Tony walks down the hallway past couples and more making out, slowly going deeper into the house. The first couple of doors have clear noises coming from them — having been left open for just that purpose — but by the time he’s worked his way in deeper, the doors are locked. He lets himself into his office, taking off his velvet tuxedo jacket as the lights automatically turn on. 

A man in a suit is leaning up against his desk, broad shoulders filling it out in all the right places. His fingers are doing their best to button up his slacks but they can’t hide what he’s been doing to fill out the front of Steve’s trousers. 

“Well, well, well. This is a surprise, Steve. What did I do to deserve this? Oh, it’s a birthday present? Well how about that!”

Steve shakes his head his face flushed bright red. “Shit, Tony! What are you doing…” His voice trails off. 

“This is my office, sunshine.”

“But you– the party…”

Tony raises a hand dismissively. “Just needed something out of my desk. I think the better question is: what are _you_ doing in my office? Other than having a good time, of course.” 

Before the chemo, Tony bets he could have smelt the funk coming off of Captain America. That smell that infects teen bedrooms, heavy and musky. He licks his lips anyways. 

Steve ducks his head. “I didn’t want anyone coming in and seeing…” He gestures in the direction of his junk. “I knew this would be locked and they wouldn’t have the password.”

The ‘but I do’ goes unsaid. Even after Natasha Tony couldn’t bring himself to change it. He couldn’t stop himself from believing that Cap wouldn’t abuse the privilege. While others might disagree, personally Tony wouldn’t consider this an abuse of those privileges so much as a delectable meal. 

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re giving yourself some TLC in my office. If you’re looking for a partner, I’m telling you there’s more fish in the sea than just Jan. I’ll even wingman you. Two words: Life. Changing.”

“No! No. That is, Mr. Stark, that’s a one of a kind offer but I’ll just go back to the party.”

Steve’s pants do little to hide the problem. “Looking like that? Gracious me, Captain America’s kinkier than I ever dreamed.”

Steve glares down at his pants. “Someone just needs to get the message and stop getting out of hand.”

“Do you often struggle with this particular issue?” Fantasy fuel for months if he does. 

Steve’s grip on the table says everything. 

“Maybe it just needs to be brought in line… A bit of punishment maybe.” Tony’s starting to salivate. What he would do to get his hands on Steve’s cock. 

A cough interrupts Tony’s daydream. “Don't tell me that a certain someone,” Tony’s gaze rests unambiguously on the package between Steve’s legs, “brought you to this side of the ‘net, darling.”

Steve looks away. 

“Well that changes everything, Steve. Are you interested in it being brought in line? Because,'' Tony’s gaze moves up from Steve’s legs to his chest, lingering last on the hand that until recently must have been touching his cock. “That's something we can make happen. Well I say 'we.’”

Tony gives a flourish in his own direction then applies the last bit of pressure. “It's got to beat beating yourself off in my closet.”

He’s avoided Steve’s face throughout his little speech but now Tony’s cards are all out on the table. Either Steve will take his gambit or he won’t and Tony will go down to his club. What does it matter if people notice he’s ditched his own party? He’s Tony fucking Stark. 

Is he imagining the softening in Steve’s jawline?

“You calling your office a closet, Tony?”

Chuckles erupt out of Tony’s chest, a proper belly laugh. He brushes tears out of his eyes. “Fucking hell, Rogers, I needed that.”

Steve grins like he’s a little kid who’s been told what a good job he’s done.

“I, uh, didn't think people did things like that anymore.” His voice is quiet, completely different from his dig. “Punishment.”

Tony stares at the subject of a great many fantasies through his eyelashes but doesn’t say anything. If he interrupts he’s afraid Steve won’t keep going. 

“Especially not–” Steve gestures at Tony and then at his office more generally. “I thought it was frowned on these days, to be honest.”

Tony’s eyebrows crawl up his face. Well, well. His knife–sharp smile spills across his face. He’s been hungry for this. Just what the doctor ordered. The chance to let loose. Happy birthday to him indeed.

“You've got experience, then; that changes everything. Sorry for denigrating your porn preferences.”

Steve shakes his head. “They deserve,” he swallows, “denigration to be honest.” The way he says that word could put him in the running for phone sex operator. 

Sounds like Steve might be a bit of a rogering Rogers, with himself if no one else. Tony files it away. He’s learning so many new things today. For now he wiggles his right hand. “Well, Captain Rogers, will you escort an old queer to his bedroom?”

Steve’s face goes through at least six emotions and Tony can’t help but to laugh. Of course he’s starting to look hurt now. “None of that Steve, I’m just being outrageous. We’re going to the bedroom. I figure you’d like a bit of privacy for this. Unless the chance that a handsome billionaire may walk in on you at any moment is part of the allure for you, of course.”

The other man nods and they walk down the hall, the sounds of the party fading away. Steve’s talking about one of his shows and Tony’s listening to his voice more than anything. It could almost be any other night except for the twist of heat at the base of Tony’s spine.

Tony’s real bedroom isn’t their destination, just the one he entertains visitors in. Steve stays easy and loose. A fear of Tony’s eases. Steve might avoid the gay freakout. Tony doesn’t know he can stand it if Steve goes too far with that. Maybe the sterility of it will keep Steve at ease. None of Tony’s personal items, just a private room with a bed, a couch and his toys. He keeps some clothes here as well, the kind fresh young things expect to see him wearing. Tony prefers it that way. For Steve he’d… well. The distance is probably for the best. What good would come of Steve spying on his meds stash?

“So, what do you like, Steve?” Tony keeps it casual. Wham bam thank you ma’am, that's what they’re doing tonight. Both of them scratching an itch for each other. “Anything in particular?'

“Well, sometimes they used to have us twist or pinch, well, it.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. Kinkier than he expected. Assuming that by ‘it’ Steve can only mean his cock. Tony hasn’t gotten a look at it yet but his imagination runs wild. Steve touching himself down there that way. Is he into pain then? He’d be so so pretty while Tony hurt him, that big beautiful body of his under Tony’s control, at his mercy. 

He pulls himself back to Steve in the here and now. This Steve is shuffling from foot to foot and Tony curses himself. 

They’re just standing there in the middle of the room so Tony turns away and fixes himself a drink. “Do you want anything Steve? You can go sit on the couch if you’d like.”

“No need to trouble yourself, Tony.” Steve sits down and leans forwards, resting his forearms on his knees. 

Tony walks over, sitting on the arm of the sofa. The weight of the crystal glass is grounding in what seems like an increasingly far-fetched night. “So, who’s the ‘they’?”

“They told us how to do it at Sunday School... I've tried a couple of times on my own but…”

Tony nods. He’s tried to do solo sessions and it never works. Thus the necessity of his club.

"I used to keep up the pinching whenever I felt the urge coming, but there were these bandages my parents would wrap our hands in... I could never sketch with them." A grimace twists over Steve's face. An old annoyance. "Or sometimes I'd just go for a long run after the serum made me strong. That worked pretty well." 

Steve’s getting into the memories now. “And there were all these foods we were supposed to eat to prevent us from feeling the urges. Had a chuckle when I saw them again in these times but Buck swore me up and down it wasn’t a joke.”

It clicks with Tony. Steve’s talking about abstinence type garbage. Trying to stop little boys from playing with themselves. And clearly that’s what Steve thought Tony was offering. Punishing in the true sense of the word.

“I’m just going to change out of this tux into something more comfortable, do you mind, Steve?”

“Oh, no, go ahead.”

“And if you change your mind about that drink feel free to mix yourself something,” Tony adds.

He needs the time to think, mostly, and without Steve’s eyes on him. Steve must have thought Tony was being serious about the whole punishment thing. And it’s not that he’d be wrong exactly. Tony does want to hurt him. He wants to see how he takes it, what kind of pain he likes best and what kind he takes just because Tony likes it. Tony wants to lay his mark on Captain America.

He needs this. He’s been meaning to go to his club for ages and keeps putting it off for the Ultimates. This isn’t typical but as long as Steve’s informed and they talk it over, what does it matter that they’ll be getting different things out of it?

And it is his birthday after all.

With that decided, Tony fixes his outfit in the mirror before stepping out in a burgundy smoking robe and matching silk sleeping pants. Steve starts from where he’s sitting, a blush rising up on his cheeks. “I thought you said this was just–” He makes a gesture that Tony guesses is supposed to be ‘beating the shit out of my junk’ but could be an alarming number of things.

“What, surely you don't think I pull out my good toys in my Sunday best? Or, are you surprised that I'm still wearing so much? Well you’re right, I typically do this for pleasure. But my johnson's on vacation, sweetie, thanks to all the hookers, blow and chemo. All I care about tonight is getting my hands on yours.”

Steve nods slowly, looking a bit stunned. Must be Tony’s potty mouth. 

Tony walks down the length of the room in his best ‘don’t fuck with me’ walk. By the time he reaches Steve, he appears to have stopped breathing. “That alright with you?”

At the bottom of his vision, Steve’s pants are twitching. “But I thought you said you'd be helping me with my.... problem.” The ‘not making it worse’ is left unstated but Tony can hear it.

Tony pulls a small flogger out the pocket of his robe. 

The first thing most people notice is the soft pink colour. The tails are tanned cowhide on one side and suede on the other. The material gives it some good bite even though it’s a smaller flogger designed for more intimate areas. 

Steve’s eyes lock onto it. He’s blushing, the colour maybe? Tony swishes the flogger back and forth, the tanned side of the tails hitting the palm of his hand rhythmically. It hurts, a thuddy kind of pain, but that’s part of the satisfaction, knowing that soon that’s what Steve will be experiencing. 

Only with more force behind it. 

“Oh I will be. You see, I like hurting people even when I can’t get it up. I was hoping that since you want me to hurt you, we could come to an arrangement.”

Steve nods, his eyes never leaving the flogger. It’s a good thing Tony made his peace with being a bad, bad man a long time ago because the things he’s going to do to this beefcake...

“That settles it then!” Tony turns and walks back towards a large wardrobe. He unlocks the doors and reveals his collection of toys, laid out or hung up on the dark wood. There’s a small stash in the dressing room where he pulled the flogger from but this is the showcase, his treasure trove.

He brings over a selection of items wondering how far Steve wants him to take this. There’s a red feather, a box with Tony’s sounding equipment, a spiked paddle, a cock ring, a pair of vampire gloves, wax candles, and last of all the miniature flogger from earlier. “Now Steve I need you to look this over and tell me if there’s anything you’re not on board with. I can explain what any of them do if you have questions. If nothing on this sideboard works that’s fine too.”

Steve takes his time examining the objects. Tries out the flogger and the paddle against his arm, opens up the sounding kit before pushing it away. Even the feather receives its due. “I don't think this is really suitable to the task at hand Tony.”

Tony grins a cheshire smile. “You saying that because you think it won't work? Think a little feather can't do anything to you? Because I'll take that bet if you're putting up some money.”

Steve studies his face and then the feather again. “That’s a deal. Blow my mind then, if you can.”

“What are we betting?”

“How about you’ll owe me a favour,” Steve offers.

“Someone’s confident. Fine, it’s a wager,” and they both hold out their hands and shake on it. 

“After all, there’s so many things I’d like to have you do for me,” Tony adds with a dangerous smile on his face.

Steve looks nervous for one moment before standing his ground. Tony’s going to ride that overconfidence all the way to the finish line.

That settled, Tony moves back to the task at hand. “You haven't answered my question Steve. Anything on here a no besides the sounding kit?”

“The candles. Nothing with hot and cold.” His voice chatters at the last word. 

_Cold._ Fuck, the ice. “No temp play, you got it, Steve.”

Tony coughs and forcibly returns to his normal speaking voice. “One other thing, Steve. I know you said that you wanted to keep things focused on your cock. No penetration, that kind of stuff. What about me playing with your hole with my fingers or with a plug?”

Steve works his lip with his mouth. “No penetration, no gay stuff. But– If you wanted to touch it with your fingers, you could pinch my hole.” His voice is almost a whisper. “I do that sometimes.”

Well if that isn’t mindblowingly hot, Tony doesn’t know what is. “Limit set, Steve.” It isn’t any of his business how Steve’s separating what Tony’s going to do to him from ‘gay stuff’. He’s set a clear one and Tony will follow it.

He takes a deep breath. “Last chance to back out before I start on you, hot stuff.”

“I’m putting myself in your hands, Tony.” He says it like there’s no question. The guy who an hour ago was jerking off in Tony’s office. He gives Tony a shrug. “It's what I do everytime we suit up anyways.”

That almost causes a nuclear meltdown in Tony’s brain so gets duly shuffled aside. “From here on out if you need to stop just say ‘Ultimates’ and everything stops, no questions asked, okay Steve?”

“I understand, Tony.” Steve’s eyelids flutter closed and Tony turns a key to unlock a part of himself that only ever comes out for the club or occasionally the boardroom. 

“Then take off your pants and your jacket, Steve. Underwear too.”

Steve obeys without question, stripping efficiently and folding his pants and jacket on a side table. He stands there looking down, his hands behind his back as though he’s at ease. His cock is half hidden by the tails of his dress shirt but it’s already heavy and partway hard.

“Why don't you start where you left off.”

Steve starts stroking himself, his stroke short and impatient. “'I thought the point was to make me stop not to do more of it.”

“Rogers!”

“Sir!”

“No backtalk.”

“Yes, sir!” 

The honorific coils down heavy in Tony’s pelvis. He’d be hard if things were different. He’d have been hard since first seeing Steve jerking himself off.

“I thought they raised you to be obedient in that army of yours,” Tony muses. Steve doesn’t reply, just keeps rubbing. Smart man. “All I want to hear out of you is the word 'red' if you want me to stop, 'yellow' if you want me to slow down. And, of course, when I break you, you’re welcome to beg me to stop. Not that I will, not until you say ‘Ultimates’, ‘red’ or ‘yellow.’ Now, is that understood, Rogers!”

“Sir!”

“Good boy.” Steve’s shirt twitches at that one but Tony can’t quite see it. He’s almost physically hungry for it. He wants desperately to hold Steve down and suck him dry while Steve begs him for release. 

Tony coughs and gets back in the here and now. “I bet you're all red and irritated down there, aren’t you, Steve? Don't you even use lotion on yourself?”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t want it to feel…”

“You don’t want it to feel too good, huh? Want that edge of pain with your pleasure. I guess you've been needing someone to do this to you for a while. Had to start trying to do it for yourself in the end. Wonder if all those morality men knew what kind of kinky shits they were nurturing with their policies.”

Steve’s rubbing himself desperately, his non–dominant hand held behind his back, still in that at ease position. Tony can’t take it anymore.

“Unbutton your shirt but don’t you dare stop stroking.”

Steve nods and hastens to obey. The full glory of his beefcake–ness is revealed button by painful button. Tony wants to eat him up with a spoon. It makes it hotter how big Steve is next to Tony. Tony’s got muscles from the suit and his vanity but the chemo and the cancer has worn them down. It’s not exactly hard to look frail next to Steve unless you’re Thor and he’s the fucking God of Thunder if you believe his story. Tony’s yet to decide.

It's a beautiful thing, if he can say so himself. Proportional, to Steve that is, so larger than most cocks he's seen in his time, and uncircumcised. Tilting just a little to the right. Clearly Steve had been at it for a while, if the colour is any indication -- more than a flush, it's a deep inflamed red. It looks painful. He'd like to hurt it more.

“So what exactly brought you to my office tonight,” Tony says conversationally. “Not to put too fine a point on it, Rogers, but you're just about the last person I'd imagine taking a hand to himself at one of my parties. I have to admit that it is a lovely sight. But what do I know, maybe this is _modus operandi_ for you. Do you do this often, Steve?”

Steve nods helplessly and fuck that’s hot.

Man, Tony’s been missing out. Thank his lucky stars that he was the one to stumble on Steve and his jerk–off habit first. “Were you always like this or is it a new development?”

“I couldn't–” The words come out between strokes, his chest heaving. “The party– I saw them– I could hear them– it didn't used to be like this I could just,” he pinches himself and moans, “And it would go down.”

Tony nods, unable to look away.

“There weren't so many men back then who'd– not in public at least.”

“And then you come to one of my parties and it’s sex central, is that it?”

“The smell of them, sir. I could hear every word they were saying and I just–”

“That's enough, Steve,” Tony says sharply. “Can't have you coming early.”

Steve brings his hand behind his back again. That red fucking cock there for Tony’s consumption. It looks like it hurts, like it’s nearing rug burn. It’s beautiful.

“It wouldn't change anything–” Steve’s whispering under his breath. There can only be one response. 

Tony gives a flick of his wrist with the flogger in hand. The power comes from his bicep, fueling the underhand strike until the leather makes perfect contact with the underside of Steve’s cock.

Steve shudders, his breath coming out in deep pants and Tony revels in every facet of the moment. He’s on the top of a podium, he’s in the midst of combat. It’s the single most perfect feeling.

“No backtalk. I won't ask you again, Steve.”

Steve is shaking his head, “Please sir, please. I need–”

Tony waits for Steve to complete the sentence. 

Steve’s chest is still rising up and down with every breath, the muscles of his back stretching with each of them. His head is bowed forwards and Tony glides the weight of the tails over the back of Steve’s neck and shoulders. The suede side down first and then smooth leather. The edges of the cowhide tails are softer and more supple than when he first purchased this flogger. The price of a well-loved favourite.

Steve still hasn’t replied. At last Tony’s winds up his arm and delivers a hard thwack of suede against Steve’s shoulders and Steve jumps, at the sound or the pain, Tony couldn’t say.

“Well, Steve?”

The man shakes his head no. Fine, have it that way. There’s a flush of energy in Tony now.

“If you listen, Steve, I won't have to do it again.” Tony laughs out loud. “Actually that's a dirty lie, I'll do it as often as I want. But you can keep begging me to stop if that's your jam.”

“No I, sir. Sir, please,” Steve insists.

“Oh, it's that kind of ‘please’. Well, then. Spread 'em, soldier.”

The flogger Tony’s using is properly itty bitty but he knows from experience that with the right technique it hurts all the more for it. He gives Steve ten more underhand strokes in quick succession now that the man’s beautifully exposed to him. Tony’s hands move in a figure eight pattern so that he alternates between suede and leather, between sting and thud. 

Steve sounds like he's being punched each time but his hands don’t even waver. He doesn’t get any less hard, either. 

When Tony feels like he’s got a good rhythm going he delivers an overhand stroke down onto the top of Steve’s cock. It bounces quickly back. The tip’s started leaking. By George, Tony’s got himself a proper little pain slut.

He rubs his hands together and replaces the flogger on the side table. 

What will he use next? He can’t help but flick his eyes over to Steve every couple of seconds. He’s started to sweat a little, just enough to give him a beautiful golden glow. Tony lifts the spiked paddle in his hand. It’s satisfactorily heavy. He rubs his thumb over the dull spikes. Wonders how Steve will handle this one after the success of the flogger.

Tony returns to Steve, paddle in hand. This time he rubs first the flat side and then the spiked side over the raw skin of Steve’s cock. Unsurprisingly, given his taste for lotion-less jerk off sessions, Steve rubs right back into it. Tony doesn’t say anything, just brings the spikes underneath Steve’s junk, pushing them up into Steve’s scrotum. His balls roll around a bit and Steve only exacerbates that when he begins to wiggle. He isn’t pulling away but he also isn’t pulling towards. It’s like he’s a magnet stuck between polarities.

After a couple of minutes of this, Tony moves the paddle away to scratch it against Steve’s thighs, which are more muscle-bound than seems possible. But, then, that’s the serum’s magic.

When brushed against those delicious thighs it almost seems to tickle Steve and Tony grins at that. He’s going to take Steve on a dizzying journey of sensations tonight. Next, he delivers two love taps to Steve’s cock with the spiked end of the paddle. The paddle feels different to the flogger. It’s solid where the flogger has give, which allows Tony to bounce it off of Steve like he would a tennis racquet.

Steve's still wiggling but there's a bit more spirit behind it now, trying to push himself onto the spikes of the paddle whenever Tony switches from his thighs to his cock. Likes that, does he?

Neither of them are saying much now, too caught up in what’s right in front of them. 

Tony grins and then gives Steve the best wallop he can with the spiked end of the paddle, underhand, and Steve fucking screams his lungs out.

Tony pants a little. Fuck, that’s dangerous for his heart. Too much hotness applied to an unworthy man.

Steve shudders when Tony taps the paddle against his balls the next time, like he didn’t know what Tony was going to dish out to him until Tony’s paddle made contact. Which is good, that’s what Tony’s going for. He’s the one in charge here, what he does is down to his own whimsy, his own desires.

And Steve’s given him Captain America to apply that whimsy to.

“Now that was a pretty response, Steve. But then you’re a hot number.”

Tony keeps playing with him as he muses. “You'd cause a riot in the club scene, you know. Frankly, I'm amazed no one's caught you before.”

A terrible, wonderful thought pops through Tony’s mind. “You ever do it on the helicarrier, Steve?”

Steve looks up at him. His face is a mess. A bit of drool down the side of his mouth, his face flushed all the way pink and his eyes fully blown. 

Steve nods, holding eye contact the whole while.

“It's after a battle isn't it?” The words spill out of Tony’s mouth. “That’s when it's the worst?”

Steve nods again, this time a little redundantly. 

“I keep a catheter up mine, you know.” 

Steve looks horrified.

“Not that it matters, my cock wouldn't get up even without 40cm of plastic shoved up it.” 

Tony’s aware that he sounds more than a little bitter and he puts that emotion into his next strike, this one with the flat edge which lands with a sharp _crack_ when it makes contact. Steve rocks into it, still so beautifully responsive, and Tony feels noticeably better.

“Still, I wonder whether you're on someone's security footage,” Tony muses. “Jerk-off tapes of Captain America.”

Steve fidgets, one hand slipping from the position he kept them in. 

“Tsk tsk. Keep those hands up, I didn't say you could move them. No point getting embarrassed at this point. I'm the one who had the privilege of catching you and I'm the one who knew what you needed.”

Tony lays another hard one into Steve’s cock.

“I want you to turn around and bend over. You have something I want to play with.”

The other man hesitates for a second too long and Tony smells blood in the water. 

“But I thought you played with your ass sometimes as a special punishment. Or maybe it’s a treat that you just tell yourself is a punishment. Pinching yourself back there must hurt an awful lot, assholes are just so sensitive. But you can’t help yourself can you? I bet your ass gets hungry sometimes and when it does the only thing that’ll take the edge of is a good, firm pinch.”

“Tony–” Steve gasps out.

“Now that doesn’t sound like ‘please.’ Beg me Steve. Bend over and beg me to play with your hole.”

Steve obeys with satisfying alacrity, his arms holding on to the back on his knees. Damn does his ass look good. “Please, Tony.” Bent over like this, Steve’s voice is restricted and softer. “Please pinch my hungry–” Steve’s throat catches. “–my hungry, filthy hole.”

Tony has to bite his lip to keep himself from saying anything. Like proposing marriage. That would be a mistake. Such a mistake. For one thing, Steve doesn’t do ‘gay stuff’ and–

“Please, Tony.” Steve’s still begging.

“You’ve got it, Steve,” Tony manages to squeak out.

Tony pushes on Steve’s feet and this time he obediently spread his legs. He snaps on a nitrile glove, bottle of lubricant in his other hand. 

Steve’s asshole is exposed like this, delicate and vulnerable. Tony brushes it with his thumb and admires the shiver that spreads up his back. He pushes and pulls at the opening while Steve moves his weight between his feet.

Tony takes a breath. First time lucky. He pinches the edge of Steve’s hole with his thumb and forefinger. Steve keens, looking for all the world like he could come from it. Tony’s hand comes up to his pants before he remembers that there’s nothing to adjust.

Another pinch, this time harder. He rubs his thumb against the delicate nerve endings surrounding Steve’s hole, grooved and tight beneath the nitrile glove.

Tony pinches and his fingers almost bounce off it so he pinches again and again until Tony’s back in his rhythm and Steve’s cock is poking out from his thighs, caught between a rock and a hard place. 

Tony grins. That gives him an idea. For now, he squirts a drop of warmed lubricant over Steve’s hole. Steve shudders and Tony smears his thumb through it. He can feel Steve opening up underneath him. He has the fantasy of slipping his fingers in, of a plug, but he sets those aside and enacts his plan instead. 

The feather is tickled down down the backs of Steve's thighs and onto Steve’s oversensitive cock. Steve grunts out, “Hurts, sir.”

Tony doesn’t reply, just twitches the feather briefly over Steve’s hole. He knows from experience that at this point that gentle tickle is an overwhelming sensation. But he’ll win the bet later; for now Tony needs to get back to the main event. He spanks Steve once over the hole then says, “Go lay down on your back, Steve.”

Tony turns away and changes his nitrile gloves to the leather pair of vampire gloves. The red doeskin is oh so soft which only makes the sharpness of the metal nails attached to the ends of the fingers more unexpected. The nails glint in the light as Tony walks over to the bed and Tony flexes his fingers in anticipation. He’s going to tear Steve apart. 

The things he wants to do to this man. But this is a one night only event. A birthday gift.

“I'm a lucky, lucky man, Steve. Life of privilege, you know, but even then, you? You’re something very special.”

Steve shakes his head. 

“I assure you that I am very lucky to have you laid out for me. Now, where to begin?”

Steve whimpers and pushes his hips up towards the sky.

Tony laughs. “Now that’s pretty unambiguous. Just for that I should give you a proper whack but where’s the fun in that?”

Instead Tony reaches down to that delectable, positively neglected cock and gives it a slow but firm jerk off. The leather catches and drags a little and Steve visibly melts into Tony’s touch until he meets the vampire gloves’s namesake, those delicious, sharp nails. Steve immediately tries to pull away but Tony doesn’t let him, holding down Steve’s hips with his ungloved hand. 

Of course, if Steve wanted to he could pull away properly. Hell, he could safeword out at any time but he doesn’t, just takes something that Tony bets doesn’t feel at all good to him. He takes it because this isn’t about how good some of the pain might make Steve feel, it’s about Tony dishing out whatever he so desires. 

As the nails rub against Steve’s delicate skin they dig softly into Tony’s own nail beds. 

Too soon, the stroke is over, five lines scratched down Steve’s cock.

Tony saves the picture in his mind.

“Do you like them, Steve?”

Steve shakes his head frantically.

“I do. They’re called vampire gloves. Not the sort of thing people outside the scene are familiar with but I think they’re pretty self-explanatory once you see them in action.”

Tony brings them down onto Steve’s chest and steps the metal nails down Steve’s body finger by finger. Spears a nipple and Steve shudders, climbs down to Steve’s rocking abs and the man clenches up. Continues down Steve’s left hip, where they dig into bone for a moment and Steve cries out in pain but Tony carries on anyways, stepping the nails down Steve’s thighs and behind the backs of his knees.

Finally Tony gives in to himself and pinches Steve’s left inner thigh with the gloves’s nails. He lets go once he feels the skin start to give. There’s a mark when Tony pulls away and Tony goes in a second time to leave a partner on Steve’s left thigh.

“No Tony, please no,” Steve whimpers this time. “Don’t, it hurts, please.”

Tony grins but doesn’t back off. Steve can’t seem to take his eyes off the hand with the glove on. “So at last I find something you don’t like. Something that serves as proper punishment. Besides, for all your begging me to stop, that’s the last thing you want, isn’t it? You just want to be made to take it, to take something good boys should run away screaming from. Isn’t that right, Steve?”

Steve shakes his head no as Tony’s hand returns to Steve’s cock. Tony trails the nail of the index finger through the forest of Steve’s pubic hair, catching on little hair follicles.

“Besides, it’s what you deserve. It’s what your naughty,” Tony pinches, “naughty,” another pinch, “cock deserves. It deserves real pain for what it puts you through. Making you thirst after those men, forcing you to jerk off at your best friend’s party. Humiliating you over and over again.”

Tony traces the edge of Steve’s foreskin with one of the nails, carefully controlling his hand so that it barely brushes the edge. He’s worked himself up with his own words and that control is hard to come by, only managed because of Tony’s extensive experience.

“Isn’t that right, Steve?” Tony looks up and meets Steve’s blue, blue eyes dead on. “I expect an answer this time.”

“–It does, it does, it does, please Tony, please please please I need it, I need you to hurt me with those nails. My c-cock–” Steve groans at the word, the flurry of words stopping in its tracks. “My cock needs to be punished.”

“Good boy,” Tony says, and grasps Steve’s cock in his nails once more.

Steve’s cock goes satisfyingly soft as the nails dig in.

“That’s more like it. Of course,” Tony relaxes his grip so that the nails are barely touching the cock he still holds in his grasp and begins to rub the head with the pad of his thumb. “I’ll just bring it back to hardness. How many times, Steve, how many times do you think I could get you this close to coming before I took it all away again?”

Steve shakes his head furiously but sure enough his cock is hardening up in Tony’s grip. As it does, the true sadism of Tony’s careful positioning becomes clear: the harder Steve’s cock becomes, the more the steel nails dig into the soft skin.

Fuck, Tony’s good.

With his other hand, Tony shakes some lube over Steve’s cockhead. Rubs it in with the thumb of his gloves.

“Oh Tony, Tony,” Steve’s voice is soft and spacey like he isn’t quite there. “You feel so good. So much better than my hand. Should’ve… right from the start…”

Tony could, maybe even should, punish Steve for using his name. But it sounds so good coming from his mouth. So clear that he isn’t imagining anyone else here but Tony. He’ll make an exception, just this once.

Steve’s hips are pushing his cock further into Tony’s hand, chasing that release. It must be making the pain worse, not better, but Tony isn’t one to complain about that. Instead, as Steve’s foreskin becomes completely taut, Tony catches the nail of his thumb purposefully on Steve’s urethra.

Tears fall softly down Steve’s face and a low and drawn out sob spills out his mouth.

“Tony… I’m not sure I…”

“Shh, shh,” Tony comforts. “You can, Steve, you can. I’m in charge here and we’re playing by my rulebook. You can let go.”

In contrast to Tony’s gentle voice is the fierce joy as he catches Steve’s urethra once again.

Steve’s swallowing, still crying, but he’s back to breathing deeply again as though he’s breathing through the pain, preparing to ascend to a higher plane. 

Tony’s head rocks side to side with every breath Steve takes. 

There isn’t anything but the two of them. The pain Tony usually feels is gone. Just him and Steve. Connected. Like this, Tony could almost be touching Steve’s soul.

Maybe he is.

At last, Steve bears down on Tony’s hand, bears down on that sharp steel nail which is still pressing into his oh-so sensitive urethra.

There’s a moment where no one moves, no one breathes–

And then Steve is shuddering and coming in Tony’s hand.

Tony opens his grasp as Steve’s cock pulses, not wanting to hurt Steve by accident. He strokes Steve through it. The world doesn’t quite feel real.

Tony swallows through the knot of feelings in his throat. He brushes at his eyes with the back of his other hand, pretending he doesn’t feel the dampness.

He coughs after Steve finishes, making his voice light. “Now, I know we didn't discuss it but it's generally frowned upon in circles like this not to ask permission before you come buckets,” Tony scolds. “Don’t apologize, just remember for the next person you–”

“–the next person you play with.”

But Steve barely seems to hear him and Tony pulls his brain forcibly away from the idea of anyone else getting their hands on his– on Steve.

Instead, he focuses on cleaning first Steve and then the gloves with a damp towel he left for himself on the sideboard. The dirty toys are all set to the side to be properly cleaned and conditioned.

As he turns back to Steve, he brings the feather.

Steve’s cock is shriveled into itself, wrecked by the force of Tony’s attention.

Perfect for what’s coming next.

The feather looks like nothing next to what else Tony’s used on him. Doubtless the reason why Steve was so dismissive as to make the bet.

But if Steve thought it felt like a lot before, back when he used the feather on his hard cock, so much so that he didn’t know what Tony was using, he’s felt nothing yet. Tony holds it, light as air, and gently tickles the tip up and down Steve’s cock.

Steve shrieks and looks down.

Tony laughs. “And now you know,” before tickling it again. Steve’s eyes are wide with fear and dismay and his head only shakes harder the more Tony plays with him.

“Come on now, you know what to say. Beg me to stop and just this once I’ll consider it. Of course you’ll also lose the bet but I’m sure that’s a price that you’ll be _happy to pay_ considering the alternative.”

Tony moves down to Steve’s balls and Steve whimpers. “No, please no,” he whispers under his breath.

“Oh what’s that?” Tony makes as if to go back in. “I’m not sure I could hear you.”

“Please! Please, no, sir! You win, you winyouwin–” The words smear together in Steve’s mouth.

Tony laughs out loud. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a bet won.”

Steve’s still shaking through the aftershocks. Tony’s got a cure for that. He swaps his grip on the feather so that the pointy end is facing him then traces it delicately down Steve’s cock.

Steve exhales and his cock twitches. 

“Is someone wanting to join the party again?”

“I can’t sir, don’t make me,” is what Tony thinks Steve said. But it’s barely words. More like ‘can’t.’

“Oh, but you can, Steve. After all, you’re Captain America. Really, is there anything you can’t do?”

Tony gestures with his head towards Steve’s cock. “Besides, look. You can see it rising already. Fuck is it ever red this time.”

Tony pretends to consider, drinking in everything contained in Steve’s pleading eyes. “But! Just for you, darling, I’ll give it a break, how about that? Fix myself a drink, give you a little breather.”

Steve nods faintly. “Thank you… sir…”

The bar’s at the side of the room and Tony fixes himself a glass of Compass Box Hedonism whisky, neat.

He swirls it in the heavy crystal glass and takes a sip. Tries to get a grip on himself.

So what if Tony can never top this moment? Tomy knew that from the word go. Tony will remember this night. Treasure it. Polish it.

He takes a sip.

It’s wonderful whisky.

He can barely taste it.

Happy fucking birthday.

Everything you could ever want.

Pandora’s box opened.

“Tony?”

Tony looks up and completes the distance in three strides. “Steve? You okay?” Panic clutters his voice.

The other man nods. “Just… missed you.”

Tony breathes. Steve is fine. Steve is fine.

He examines the bruises marks on his thighs, the scratches on his body and of course the half-hard cock that looks achingly painful. 

Tony grins. Well for a given definition of fine.

He takes another sip then swirls his thumb in the cool whisky. Draws it up to Steve’s mouth and pushes it in.

Pleasingly, Steve begins to suck on his thumb, chasing after the whisky with his tongue.

Finally, Tony pulls his thumb out and a pop sounds as Steve does his best to hold on.

Tony holds Steve’s jaw in his palm, thumb stroking against his lips. Beautiful, beautiful man. Especially looking like this. No stress fissure between his brows.

“I have a cream I can offer you, darling. Since I won my bet and am feeling generous. I promise it won’t hurt. It’ll help actually, help make you feel better.”

Steve shakes his head in Tony’s palm. “Don’t want to.” Steve’s voice is husky, the edges of an accent creeping in.

“Alright, darling, far be it from me to force you. Besides, I like to watch you squirm.” 

Tony feeds Steve move whisky via his thumb.

“You going to be ready for round two, Steve?”

Steve nods. “Up to you,” Steve says around the thumb in his mouth. “‘m yours.”

Tony shakes where he stands. “You’re beautiful like this, you know? A masterpiece. Wasted on an old, sick queen like me.”

Steve sucks more firmly on his thumb.

Tony continues. “Still, at least… At least I’m good at what I do.”

His eyes go hard and sharp. “And not a soul will know your secret from me.”

Steve pulls away and sits up.

“Tony…” His voice sounds more with it, like he’s trying to rise up from the fog of the scene.

Steve’s right hand comes to rest on Tony’s smoking gown. The pile gives way and it’s slowly slipped in until Steve’s hand is touching Tony’s bare chest. It’s massive but soft, so much softer than Tony anticipated. 

Tony breathes shallowly, not daring to do anything more. Steve’s touching him with so much care and reverence. Like Tony’s something– something precious or some shit. Something more than a ride anyone who wants to can ride.

Not anymore though. Now Tony’s the only worse thing: a broken ride.

“May I, sir?” Steve requests. He makes to undo the tie of the smoking gown with his other hand. 

“I told you, Steve, my cock doesn’t work like that anymore.” But Tony doesn’t interfere as his gown opens up revealing his bare chest and the loose silk sleeping pants beneath it.

“I know, Tony, just, let me touch you?”

Asked like that, what can Tony do but nod. 

Tony starts to shake as Steve reverentially slips the gown off of Tony’s shoulders. His chest is a battlefield of bruises and cuts from where the Iron Man suit catches. No matter how Tony tried to protect himself, all he can do is limit the damage. 

Steve brushes against his pecs and then smoothes his fingers down Tony’s chest. Tony’s still standing there, Steve’s head coming up to his chest from where he sits up on the bed.

Steve’s hands continue down until he reaches the waistband of the pants and then he’s pulling them down.

Tony looks away as he’s fully revealed to Steve.

Tony hears Steve take a deep breath in through his nose and feels the warmth breath of his mouth exhale against his cock.

“Sit down on the bed, Tony,” Steve instructs as he himself slips down onto his knees.

What else can Tony do but obey? Steve holds him entirely in his palm.

Steve takes another deep sniff. “One of the guys, he almost smelt like you?”

“Huh?”

“One of the guys at the party, he could have been wearing your cologne. Made me crazy. That’s why I went to your office. Had to do something. I’d have come in my pants right there and then. Or tracked you down…”

Steve’s warm breath is pressing against Tony’s cock like a physical touch. 

It remains stubbornly soft.

“I just– I need you, Tony. Please let me take you in my mouth. I need to taste you, need to smell you.”

Tony shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Steve it won’t do anything, just leave it.”

“It doesn’t need to do anything.” Steve smoothes his hands over Tony’s thighs. “Just sit back–”

“Steve–”

“–just sit back with your whisky. You’ve been fighting with Greg again. I know you have. You just need to take a load off. Imagine, you’re in your office downstairs. You’re on the phone with… with someone. And I just slide down, and take you into my mouth.”

And sure enough that’s what Steve does. 

His mouth is warm and soft. Almost like an embrace. He sucks lightly on Tony’s cock but without any urgency. Something presses against Tony’s feet. It’s firm. Must be Steve’s cock. That round two they’d talked about an age and a day ago. And it’s just so easy for Tony to stop thinking and to start feeling.

Tony lifts his foot and presses down a little on Steve’s junk. Steve hisses and the exhale draws cool air around Tony’s cock before Steve humps back into Tony’s foot. 

Steve’s mouth is so soft and warm like this. His balls are right there and Tony can push into them with his toes. Steve’s rubbing up against him, sucking softly.

Steve gestures meaningfully towards the phone on the bedside table.

Tony lifts up the phone.

“Yes, get me those files by the end of today,” he improvises.

Steve hums like he’s pleased and Tony drops a hand into Steve’s blond hair.

“Yes, for the new products. Yes, I know R&D have been struggling,” Tony continues, taking another sip of the whisky. “Yes for the product launch, it needs to go off without a hitch.”

Steve bites delicately at the base of Tony’s cock.

“Don’t talk to me about the Ultimates, this is about the business! If you have a problem with the way I choose to run this business–”

Steve gives a particular hard suck and Tony says, “Fuck,” under his breath.

He coughs, still pretending to be on the phone. “Sorry, what was that? No, nevermind, put a pin in it and talk to me about sales in South America.”

Tony can feel the corners of Steve’s mouth pulling up around his cock as though he’s grinning. Well at least someone’s enjoying his performance.

Tony gives his cock a small kick and now Steve’s the one hissing and Tony’s got a grin spilling over the corner of his mouth.

Steve starts to rub himself harder against Tony’s foot, against the rug, desperate it seems to get off. Fuck that must hurt after what Tony put him through.

“–I’ve got another call on the line, but we’ll continue this later,” Tony says then hangs up the phone in a hurry, pushing two fingers into Steve’s mouth alongside his cock.

Steve gags lightly at the sudden intrusion before he gets a hold of himself and starts moving his mouth back and forth. His throat sucks a little on Tony’s fingers at the back of the stroke. Steve’s playing with the edge of his gag reflex.

After a particularly loud one, Steve pulls away.

“I’m close, sir, can I please?”

He’s squirming between the rug and Tony’s foot.

Tony looks down and considers Steve’s red, red cock. Imagines him making a beautiful mess all over his foot and the carpet.

“Come here, Steve,” Tony orders.

Tony sits back against the headboard then pulls Steve, a giant of a man, into his lap. Tony is trapped, pressed on all sides. It feels safe.

Tony pumps lubricant in his right hand and finally touches Steve’s cock like he’s wanted to do since the moment he laid eyes on Steve in Tony’s office. His cock’s velvet wrapped in steel and to touch him like this feels– Tony shudders. It feels so intimate. Like for all of the reality of their respective positions, Steve’s the one with a grip around Tony’s heart.

Steve’s package though is as gorgeous as it looked. Tony strokes down, Steve’s foreskin sliding with his hand. Gives Steve one stroke, two, three until Steve’s softly moaning and spilling himself over Tony’s hand.

Steve collapses, almost crushing the wind out of Tony’s lungs.

Neither of them say anything.

Tony’s brain is frozen, inexorably stuck in this very moment. 

“I shouldn’t ask but– can I have one more thing, Tony?”

Tony nods. “Have you figured it out yet? I’d do anything for you.”

“Tony.” Steve scolds.

“Fine, Steve, go ahead.”

Steve twists in Tony’s lap then cups Tony’s head. Threads his fingers through what Tony knows is sparse, brittle hair.

Tony’s watching his eyes come closer and closer until, quite by chance, Steve is kissing him.

Steve doesn’t kiss Tony like it’s their first time. He kisses like it’s their tenth. He kisses the way he sucked Tony’s soft cock. Like he took the pain Tony dished out. 

Tony’s crying softly as the kiss ends. Lays his forehead against Steve. “So we could do this again sometimes, you know, see how the treatment holds up–” his voice cracks in his throat, “–see if you maybe need it again. No gay stuff, just, you know, whatever you–”

Steve’s index finger presses against Tony’s lips. “Shh, stop talking. I don’t– Just take me to bed, Tony. I don’t want to think about that tonight. All I want is to stay with you.”

Tony gathers Steve up in his arms and closes his eyes tight. “Okay, Steve,” he whispers. “I can do that.”

Steve staying.

Well how about that.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to isozyme for the line "[M]y johnson's on vacation, sweetie, thanks to all the hookers, blow and chemo."
> 
> Credit to passeridae for the line "It's a beautiful thing, if he can say so himself. Proportional, to Steve that is, so larger than most cocks he's seen in his time, and uncircumcised. Tilting just a little to the right. Clearly Steve had been at it for a while, if the colour is any indication -- more than a flush, it's a deep inflamed red. It looks painful. He'd like to hurt it more."
> 
> Also, remember that if you play with leather and other porous materials the way Tony does, if it's being used with body fluids, that toy should only be used on the person whose body fluids are on it. Play safe, folks.


End file.
